How You Remind Me
by Odyssion
Summary: [Yaoi, lime, unrequited Goku x Sanzo] There’s always a needle of reality pinned between the fabrics of paradise... just to remind you that nothing is real.


**How You Remind Me**

_Disclaimer:_ This is a purely non-profit story for entertainment purposes only. The characters of Saiyuki belong to their respective owners.

_Author's Notes:_ Could be considered OOC-ish… Sanzo, I will admit, isn't quite himself. But I thought making him a jackass for a bit could be interesting, so here it is. This isn't really based on anything… but somehow the song (this particular time) inspired a worship fic.

Enjoy.

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**How You Remind Me**

The night air was cold against his sweaty skin, touching him intimately in every possible way. His lover was deep inside him, riding him hard as he neared completion. The feeling of their bodies so close together, so inextricably intertwined, and the blinding pleasure building inside him momentarily convinced him that this was ecstasy. But it was not to last long; soon, Sanzo came inside him with a satisfied grunt, and pulled out without ever giving him another glance.

"Get out."

Goku never argued. He got up silently, and gathered up his clothes.

He realized he was still hard when he got back to his room. Sanzo never bothered to get him off. He didn't matter, after all. And he had thought it would be different… how stupid of him.

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Ever since Sanzo had saved him from that accursed mountain, he had sworn fealty to the priest. Anything Sanzo wanted, needed… he would provide. His master was a man more than usually placid; indeed, at first he had treated Goku with absolute indifference. With time, as their relationship progressed and Goku grew… the young youkai found himself fulfilling **all** of his master's needs, including his physical ones. He had known from the beginning that it all meant nothing to the blond… that he was just another way to ease the pressures along the way. It had never occurred to him that feelings would get in the way, or that they would even develop. But develop they did, although he didn't know when or where or how. Soon, he craved those nightly meetings; it made him feel almost special, that Sanzo touched him and only him in such a way. No matter how roughly the priest treated him, no matter how apathetic, he never complained. Sometimes, on those rare occasions, he was even able to convince himself that those touches meant something deeper than simple bodily release. Sanzo could have anyone; why pick him?

Once they had picked up Gojyo and Hakkai… things had started to change. Imperceptibly at first, but with time the gradual changes became apparent. Sanzo came to him less, but in much worse moods than he had been before. Some days he could barely walk in the morning because of Sanzo's roughness, and the bruises on his body were more often from his master than from any fights. Goku knew, although it had never been said, that Sanzo had spent many nights in the beds of their co-travelers. The thought would pierce his mind with excruciating pain, but he never complained. Nor did he ever once stop to think of reason or consequence. Sanzo was Sanzo: his master, his saviour… his everything.

As it were, their journey felt like it would never be complete. All four of them were driving along smoothly, heading for the nearest village just at the edge of the horizon. The same sun had passed by him for the hundredth time, without them ever getting any closer to their goal. Night was settling in fast… and he was goddamn hungry.

It was not surprising that when they got to the nearest inn, Goku had tried to get his hands on as much food as he could. Gojyo, also not surprisingly, had argued with him. The two had shouted at each other, the argument finally escalating into a wrestling match. What was surprising was the maliciousness with which Sanzo broke up this normal mealtime dispute, grazing Goku with a carefully-aimed shot and sending him away without any dinner. Gojyo had stopped moving immediately, and Hakkai had stood up as if ready to restrain the priest if necessary.

Goku had been too startled to argue, and quickly obeyed the order he was given. Not that he'd ever disobey Sanzo anyway; he was far too dutiful for that. He made his way quickly and quietly to his room. Silently he sat on his bed, looking out the window at the tranquility of the night and trying not to think of the growing pain in his stomach. It wasn't long before the priest himself showed up, looking much calmer than he had in the moments prior. Goku, afraid to speak, merely stared at Sanzo from across the room.

"I don't like him touching you like that," Sanzo finally broke the silence, eyes boring straight into his protégé's. "In future, you'll refrain from wrestling matches with Gojyo, do you understand?"

Meekly, the brunette nodded his head. Why Sanzo wouldn't want him near Gojyo, he didn't quite understand, but he would do anything Sanzo told him. The blond still studied him, eyes hard. "How's your arm?"

He looked down to find a long scratch along his right bicep. Goku had not even noticed the wound, still fresh but no longer bleeding. He was amazed to find his entire sleeve soaked. When Goku didn't reply, Sanzo went over to study the gash himself. Grunting, he tore off a small piece of the blanket and dabbed at the clotted blood.

"I shouldn't have done that," he stated gruffly.

Goku, who had already been startled by Sanzo's seeming kindness, was even more shocked to receive the closest thing to an apology his master had ever given him. Was this what they called affection?

He was expecting to be rebuffed, perhaps even hit by that loathsome fan. This kind of behaviour wasn't something he was used to.

"Sanzo, I…"

But before he could finish his sentence, Sanzo had grabbed his arm and pushed him down on the bed, kissing him hard. Goku winced at the pressure applied on his abrasion, but ignored it as Sanzo continued his distracting ministrations. Vaguely he realized that the priest was being strangely gentle, slowly undressing him as opposed to the usual candour of ripping off his clothes. His heart skipped a beat at the implications.

Sanzo's lips tore at his exposed skin, kissing and nipping every inch he could find. It was as if he wanted to claim and mark all parts of Goku as his. His skilled hands had long since removed Goku's clothes, and the young youkai could only gasp and squirm under his master's touch, encouraging him with his reactions. He became conscious of the fact that Sanzo was being oddly possessive, taking his time to pleasure him. Even so, he was still startled when the priest's hand closed firmly around his cock and started to pump.

In all the times they had ever had sex, Sanzo had never ever cared about making him come. It had all been about Sanzo's pleasure, Sanzo's needs…

Things would be different this time. How could it not, with his master touching him like this? After all the loneliness and all the pain of all the years, here was his salvation. Love, affection… whatever the hell it was called. Salvation at its finest.

Sanzo took the youkai's legs and held them on either side of his body, spreading them in the process. Goku felt a large, warm hardness against his opening.

"You're mine," Sanzo whispered menacingly, but the searing pain overtook all of Goku's senses. All he felt was Sanzo pounding into him.

Again.

And again.

And again. Goku's own pleasure was forgotten as the priest intoned a demanding rhythm. He could feel Sanzo nearing completion as his master pumped faster, abusing his body to the extreme.

Sanzo came with a shuddering groan. He reached for Goku's erection and swiped his thumb over the tip, smearing the white liquid pooled there. Then, as if waking from a dream, he suddenly let go and moved as far away from Goku as possible. The brunette, confused and unsure, dared not breathe. And then…

"Get out."

The familiar words. It didn't matter that he was in his own room; the order would always stand. He gathered up his clothes without protest, and went to sleep in the empty room that would've been Sanzo's. The truth, the raw reminder of what he really was to his master came crashing down on him like a mountain. Just a servant, a plaything, his latest stress toy…

And yet, as he jerked himself off in the silent twilight and felt the throbbing in his body starting to subside… he knew he couldn't help hoping.

Hoping, forever hoping, that next time there would be no reminder.

**END**

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_AN:_ Weird, I know, but I wanted to experiment. Comments would be greatly appreciated.

**Edit:** Thank you to D-chan for such wonderful feedback.


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